The Voices

This is basically a thriller...I don't usually do these, but the idea of the story just popped into my head, characters and all, hope you enjoy. If you like paranormal concepts, I'm sure you'd appreciate the time I put into it. Thanks guys.

Submitted:Jan 21, 2007
Reads: 442
Comments: 5
Likes: 1

Agnes shot up in bed.

This was the fifth night now where the voices had disrupted her
sleep. She rubbed her temples fiercely, hoping that it was all
just a dream, that maybe the voices would leave her be.
Eventually, they silenced.

Agnes Mayfair was a fragile figure, with pale skin, and thin
dark hair. She wasn't the most beautiful person around, but she
wasn't hideously disfigured. The moonlight streaming through the
window next to her bed revealed her lean body as she stepped out
onto the floor-boards. They creaked slightly as she left her
room. With only her senses to guide her in the pitch-black
hallway of the mansion, she carefully slid her way along the
carpeted floor and reached the master bedroom. She knocked at the
door nervously, knowing how the doctor who resided there would
react. The door finally swang open, and there stood Doctor Joyce,
in a maroon nightrobe, his eyes squinting at the girl before him.

"Yes? What do you want?", he asked, rather irritably.

The doctor was only 5 years older than Agnes, his maid, but he
acted as if he was the wisest man on the planet. Despite his
arrogance, Agnes held a secret love for him, a burning passion to
be with him.

"I...I...Doctor, I need your help", she replied, fiddling with
the chain around her neck.

"At two in the morning?!"

He was clearly frustrated of this arrival without appointment.

"Yes, Doctor, I'm terribly sorry, but I must ask for your
consideration!"

Joyce looked her up and down, his green eyes shining like little
lights in the dark.

"Well...if it's that important, I suppose you better come on
in..."

He relaxed, held the door open for her, and closed it after she
has entered.

The master bedroom was really something. Doctor Joyce had
extended the room, so it now had a walk-in wardrobe, an ensuite
bathroom, and a living area. Of course, there was his private
study, where Agnes had never ventured, as it was strictly
forbidden to anyone else but the doctor. She eyed it suspiciously
as they walked into the examination room next door. Agnes sat
down on the examination table and watched as the doctor shuffled
some papers on the desk. She had a funny feeling that he wasn't
entirely interested in them, and was more focused on Agnes'
dainty foot as it rubbed her leg. She stopped immediately and the
doctor looked up.

"So, what's the problem Agnes?", he asked.

"I...I...am hearing voices Sir...for five nights now.", she
answered, feeling rather embarrassed by the unusual phrase.

The Doctor's eyes widened.

"Voices, you say? What are they telling you?"

Agnes recalled those piercing voices, shrieking, "The door...open
the door...the door...open it...the door must be opened!"

Whatever "the door" was, Agnes had neither any interest or any
authority to investigate it. She told the doctor with accurate
detail of how these voices had come out of nowhere, and had woken
her at two for the past five nights. Joyce sat silent, unusually
patient with her, and nodded occassionally. When she had
finished, he got up from the desk, and said in his soft, calming
voice,

"Well, Agnes, it sounds to me, that you may have a minor case of
Schizophrenia...or of the likes."

Agnes blinked. Schizophrenia? Did that mean she was insane? She
confessed her thoughts with the doctor, who replied with a swift
shake of his head.

"Absolutely not...it is a mental illness, Agnes, nothing more.
Even so, I am only a junior practitioner and I am not qualified
to deal with such matters as mental illnesses. Perhaps you should
see a professional mental illness adviser when you can...if it is
worrying you as much as you say."

Agnes nodded slowly and got up from the examination table.

"Erm...thankyou for your time Doctor Joyce, I think I'll go back
to bed now. I'll see you in the morning."

*

Laying in bed, Agnes stared at the ceiling. She couldn't get back
to sleep. Only the thoughts of the voices drifted into her mind.
Contemplating on the door, Agnes wondered whether it concerned
her. But where was this door? And why did she have to open it?
She shook her head, and chided herself for being so silly.

She would visit the mental illness adviser the next day. There
was no way she could put up with the voices any longer.